When Thanagarians Drink
by Domenic
Summary: Simply a story in which J'onn looks after a drunk Hawkgirl.


Author's Notes: Heh, my first official attempt at a humor fic, so please bear with me if it sucks and is totally devoid of giggles. No offense to HG/GL shippers, but this fic leans more toward my favorite unconventional pairing of Shayera/J'onn a.k.a. HG/MM. Small hints of WW/BM are in here as well. Please read and enjoy the story, and any reviews will be greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: Justice League does not belong to me, although I wish Shayera and J'onn did....

When Thanagarians Drink....

"Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Able to leap buildings in a single bound! It's…Clark Kent," exclaimed Shayera with a hiccup, soon collapsing into a fit of giggles, her hands still holding the wine bottle in a death grip. Lantern had tried earlier to pry the Thanagarian's fingers away from the alcoholic drink, and he still nursed the bloody scratches; J'onn still remembered Batman remarking how Shayera had claws sharper than Catwoman's.

Still giggling, Shayera looped her arm through J'onn's, resting her head on the Martian's shoulder; he was the only one left after the party celebrating Superman's return, the only one left to look after the drunk Thanagarian. The others' patience could only go so far with her, and J'onn's was…well, his was practically infinite. So the League-weary and tired, ready for bed-left, confident in the Martian's ability to look after Shayera. Or maybe they were just beyond caring. Either way, he was there, and so was she, sitting comfortably on a couch in the Watchtower's lounge.

"You know who Superman is," asked J'onn as he carefully took off his cape, draping it around Shayera. Her wings rustled thankfully for the blue fabric's warmth, and she took another large gulp of wine that made the Martian wince. No one could comprehend how relieved he was to discover that Thanagarians had a startlingly firm resistance toward the long-term effects of alcohol; basically, they weren't susceptible to hangovers, the diseases, not even the bad temper (That was really a godsend, since Shayera already had a bad temper bordering on volcanic.), although they became extremely uninhibited and uncoordinated, receiving an overall "goofiness," as Flash had so eloquently phrased it earlier. Of course, the downside to the Thanagarians' resistance toward alcohol meant they could consume large amounts of it with little fear.

"Of course I do! Just like you and Bats!" The Martian nodded; like Batman, he had investigated into his teammates backgrounds, and now knew all of their secret identities-well, the ones who had them-by heart. Apparently, Shayera knew as well; after all, if she knew Superman's, why not Flash's or Batman's?… Perhaps it was the detective nature that compelled the three of them to look into their friends' civilian lives, thought J'onn as the Thanagarian gulped down more wine. Or maybe they were all just paranoid.

"I mean, come on, Supes' disguise is no work of Houdini, not even Bats," exclaimed Shayera as she bolted up, dropping the cape; her wings were flared up, and she was waving the bottle of wine around as if she were spiritedly pointing her finger at some invisible person. J'onn felt a chill run up his spine as he noticed the Thanagarian didn't seem to care she was spilling; Shayera was usually much more careful with the wine, "her heavenly nectar, a gift from the stars," as she had said earlier. Really, it was a gift from grapevines, not the stars; but that was one of those odd times during drunkenness that the Thanagarian would suddenly become very poetic.

"They're just glasses, and yet it fools, like-lets see…." With her free hand, Shayera began to count her fingers, the wine bottle at her side; she actually seemed rather calm then, but soon sprang up, like one of the Joker's jack-in-the-box toys. "EVERYONE," she finished, plopping down back onto the couch next to the Martian. Shayera cradled the wine bottle as if it were her newborn child, but she held a blank stare in her green eyes. J'onn smirked a little as he remembered when the Thanagarian had finally taken of her mask during the party; she was pretty drunk then too, or else she wouldn't have tried yanking Batman's mask off as well, saying that everyone in the League should expose their faces, since the majority did. Flash had barely restrained the Dark Knight from punching the drunk Thanagarian out right then. It wasn't the first time during that party.

"Sorry about the cape, J'onn," whispered Shayera as she bent down, picking it up and wrapping herself within it.

"It's fine.... Would you like to go to bed now," asked the Martian for at least the hundredth time. And the Thanagarian answered for at least the hundredth time in the same childish tone: "Uh-uh."

"But Shayera, you need your rest," pressed J'onn; her sleepy eyes didn't escape his notice.

"I can sleep in tomorrow morning. Besides, you don't like sleeping that much either; you get bad dreams." Awkward silence. "I hate awkward silences, don't you?"

"No, I'm rather used to silence," replied the Martian in a monotone voice, but Shayera could still detect the sadness within it despite her drunkenness.

"Well, no need for that anymore," said the Thanagarian as she sipped her wine, her eyes casually scanning J'onn's body. He didn't fail to notice this (She wasn't even trying to hide her probing eyes!), but figured to ignore her. However, after 5 more minutes of the Thanagarian's scanning eyes, J'onn decided he had enough.

"Uh, Shayera…are you, um…checking me out," asked J'onn, all nervous and trying to be polite, fully aware of how pitiful and juvenile that last part sounded. Damn Flash's influence! But the Martian couldn't help but think of the idea of "checking out a person," since Shayera's actions were the same as the ones Wally had listed for that concept....

"Oh, well, it's just that you look real silly J'onn," replied the Thanagarian nonchalantly as she continued to sip, her emerald eyes still fixated on his body. Now the Martian was curious, as well as still uncomfortable. Bending his head a little so that his eyes would meet Shayera's and draw her gaze away from his body, he asked, "I look silly?" The Thanagarian's eyes were staring straight into the Martian's, to his relief.

"Well, you look silly without your cape," she replied, rustling her wings beneath it to draw his attention.

"I mean," Shayera continued, taking a gulp of wine as she paused, "without your cape, you're just in your trunks and boots, and I'm still wondering if that red 'X' on your chest would count as an article of clothing, since it really looks like it was painted onto your body or something." J'onn just blinked. Rapidly. He truly could not comprehend the point of this topic. He figured it was one of those foreign Thanagarian or Human (Humans and Thanagarian's were much closer genetically and mentally than Martians, even more so than Kryptonians.) things that flew over his head. Then again, Shayera was really drunk too.

"Still, it doesn't really matter, ya know," Shayera quickly said, sounding anxious and apologetic. The Martian smiled softly, touched by the Thanagarian's concern for his feelings. J'onn nodded, calming her down.

"Besides," Shayera whispered with a lopsided grin that almost could've passed for a smirk, "without the cape, I've really noticed your chest, and it doesn't look too bad." She returned to her wine, leaving the Martian blushing furiously and saying over and over again in his head: "She's just drunk. Really, really, really, really, really drunk. Her judgement's impaired and she doesn't truly mean any of it. Really, really drunk." But a small part of the Martian had to admit, he was rather pleased by the Thanagarian's compliment, whether she meant it or not.

"Want some wine J'onn?"

"No thank you Shy," replied the Martian, using the nickname first coined by Diana. He still remembered Batman's sarcastic retort about that nickname, pointing out the irony in how the Thanagarian wasn't shy at all. Then he and the Amazon had argued, only stopping once Flash had remarked how they sounded like a married couple.

"Ah, come on! You barely drank anything during the party," said the Thanagarian as she drew the wine bottle toward the Martian's mouth, shaking it suggestively.

"That is because I don't have much of a taste for alcohol," grunted J'onn as he gently pushed the drink away, ignoring Shayera's pout.

"I think you're just afraid of kissing," said the Thanagarian haughtily as she chugged down more wine, releasing a belch afterwards.

"Excuse me?"

"You're accused."

"It's supposed to be excused, but that's not even the right context."

"Huh?"

"I mean, what message were you trying to express with the mention of kissing," J'onn replied, his patience ever persistent.

"Well, drinking from one bottle shared between two people is considered indirectly kissing," answered Shayera in a tone that suggested it was an obvious thing, a common fact. The Martian…well, he took her word on it, since really he didn't know if indirectly kissing was a common fact or not. He did know that it made him terribly uncomfortable, even more so than the earlier body scan. The Thanagarian's next statement made him turn red, the strongest shade of red he had been out of this entire night.

"There's nothing to be afraid of kissing; look, I'll show you, directly-like," and with that, Shayera began to move closer to J'onn, gently gripping his shoulders as her lips began to hover over his. The Martian was in shock, so not much of a struggle was put up by him, though he blushed and sweated quite a bit. Then again, J'onn was aware that a part of him rather craved the kiss.... Thus, he felt a trace of disappointment when it never came. With a soft bump, the Thanagarian's head lay limp upon the Martian's shoulder, snores beginning to make their way through out of her mouth; Shayera had fallen instantly asleep. That was another symptom Thanagarians had toward alcohol; they could fall asleep without warning. J'onn rather wished they didn't, and that Shayera had stayed awake just a little longer....

Shaking his head of those dirty thoughts, the Martian cradled the Thanagarian, making his way toward her room; well, it was really the cruiser she had crashed in when arriving on Earth. With his help, it had been moved into the Watchtower in the final days of its construction's completion. As J'onn phased himself and Shayera inside her ship, the Martian began to reconsider his "dirty thoughts." He supposed that they weren't really that dirty, especially when compared to Flash's…still, J'onn had to control his emotions; he didn't want to hurt the Thanagarian in any way. Nestling her and tucking her into bed, the Martian gently brushed her crimson hair out of her closed eyes, watching her beating heart for a moment, savoring her snores. Then the Martian left for his quarters, leaving his cape (Unintentionally or intentionally is anyone's guess.) behind, with Shayera still wrapped within it, who cuddled it and whispered sleepily "G'night J'onn" before he could hear.

The End 


End file.
